I had a couple ideas for some posts this week: funny portmanteaus, nerd humor, yet another top 10 list to add to the internet (take THAT cracked.com!), but today happens to be Marc’s birthday as well, so I’m abandoning those ideas for now. Instead, I photoshopped together Van Damme serving Optimus Prime a bowl from Kyoto Fantasy Express (the greatest restaurant ever) as he roundhouse kicks a Zombie with Donovan McNabb’s approval. Ok, the zombie was for me, but the rest are classic Marc.

There are also way too many pictures of JCVD in banana hammocks than I’d like to have known. Thanks Google Images. Happy birthday, fucker.

Bush was bad, even on paper.

As per tradition, the outgoing President leaves the incoming one a letter in the White House, sharing some private and useful information to make the adjustment easier for the novice. CA managed to snag a copy of the document.

Yo Barack Barry,

We may not be best buds, but there are a couple of cold Bud Lights in the back of the fridge. Get it? Did you get my little ha-ha joke? Funny, right? I’m thinking about getting into comedy. Then the American people will see who’s the better Bush — me or Will Ferall Fairale Phairel – the “Talladega Nights” guy.

Anyway, that stuff got me through some rough spots. I never made a big decision or met the press without throwing back a few brews first. I’ll let you in on a little secret, my middle name is actually “Anheuser.”

You’ll want some food to go with that beer. The staff kitchen can make you anything you want, anytime. I’m serious. I recommend the T-bone steak. And bull’s testicles. Yup, I wouldn’t have made some of those ballsy moves without having a plate of bull’s nads a couple of days a week. Those guys deserve a Purple Heart and No-Bell Prize in cooking.

I heard you’re gonna close Gitmo. Can’t say it’s what I’d do, since I planned on sending Cheney there. That geezer scares the oil out of me. Even in a wheelchair.

He did have a message he wanted me to pass along. He said the country was going to collapse like a house of cards. Then he laughed for a long time.  I don’t know what it means, because unless the cards were giant and made out of like, steel and concrete, it seems impossible – but you’re a smart guy, so you’ll figure it out.

I know you wanna set a date for troop removal, but time tables are bad ideas. It took me awhile to learn mine and after fourth grade, I swore to never use time tables again.

We don’t agree on policies, but there’s no hard feelings on this end. I’m not prejudicious. I love black licorice, for example. There should be black Twizzlers, if you ask me. I wasn’t into grunge much, but “Black Hole Sun” rocked. Know what else I like? Black labs. They’re friendly. I wanted one, but the girls chose Barney instead. Also, I rode in a black Apache helicopter once and that was fun.

Everyone keeps saying “the economy’s in the toilet.” Maybe look into hiring that Joe plumber guy. I don’t know if the economy is in the crapper yet, but it sure did “sink” under me. That’s another one of my laugh lines. I’m getting better at this funny stuff, right?

It can get lonely being the President. You need to think a lot. Tap into your mind’s brain. I spent many days just thinking, ponderacating and watching “Wheel of Fortune.” That Vanna White is an American treasure.

One thing I tried to get done that never leaked out to the media was selling New Orleans to Mexico. Trust me, that’s a city this country would be better off without. Just disaster after disaster. And hard to get to, all down there. Full of Frenchies, too. We don’t need it.

As for me, I’ll still be a Decider. I need to pick out the books for my Presidential liberry. I don’t know what’ll be in there yet, but I know what won’t be. Harry Potter, ’cause it’s about evolution. People shouldn’t be told that one day they’ll have magical powers. It’s not right. It’s supposed to be a surprise. You just wake up one day and boom, you can do magic stuff. That’s the way God intended it. Also, there won’t be any of those 3-D hidden object books. Those hurt my eyes.

If you want to use any of your vacation days to help me clear some brush, that’d kick ass. Condi and I can’t do it by ourselves. She’s not a doctor of branch removology.

Like I said, it’s a tough deal being President and — don’t get stressed out by this – but you need to work at least three days a week on different duties. Laura told me to think of them as “chores” and that helped — ’cause I passed off the “chores” on Cheney, like 92 percent of the time. If you need anything, ask the Clintons. They seemed to have all the answers. Wish my 8 years had gone half as good as theirs. At least you won’t have your dad butting in constantly, asking you to read his lips and saying “winners don’t use drugs.” What a jackass.

How I see it, this country is kinda like a used car. Not in great condition, but it should run ok for the next couple of years. If not, well, all sales are final. You’re in charge of turning this lemon into lemonade. That was pretty poetical, so I’m gonna stop writing now, Obi-Wan. Heh-heh. That’s my nickname for you. I’m a big Star Wars fan. Most people don’t know that. I had hoped the Iraq war would be exciting and cool like those old movies, but instead it sucked like the prequels.

That reminds me, talk to that George Lucas guy about getting your Presidential light saber. All of us since Carter have had one. Might be the best perk of the job. Other than tapping the phone of the Playboy Mansion. Those girl’s say all kinds of freaky things.

See ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya,

#43

G. W. A.B.

So I ran across this cool picture while…ahem…read Digg. Yes, I realize it’s become the breeding ground for people who want to jerk off to the smug self-superiority of hating republicans (not that they’re always wrong, but that’s another tangent), but boredom had won over my better reasoning. Anyway, there was this fantastic drawing of 4 kids defending themselves on a playground against a zombie horde of undead children:

Passing this on to my other zombie-phile (or more appropriately, phobe) he brought up a great question: Sure, we’ve all taken the “How many 5 year olds could you take in a fight?” quiz, but how many zombie 5 year olds do you think you could kick the crap out of?

Let’s make some basic assumptions. Let’s say you’re trapped in a general elementary school. You’ve got a relatively endless stream of zombies to fend against. They’re regular ol’ undead zombies, as opposed to 28 days later “rage infected”, so they’re rotting shambling corpses. That said, they’re 5 year olds, who are wont to bite, so you have a higher chance of being bitten and turned yourself. Still, they’re like any other undead zombie, i.e. slow witted, so you do have logic on your side. You yourself are an adult, but possess only make shift weapons from common objects around a school and can not lock yourself in any room for any long term defense (it’s “how many can you take?” not “how many can you avoid while being a giant pussy?”).

I figure my number to be about 22 before weariness and a lucky bite set in. First off, you have strength, at least for a while. I’m a man of decent build and run several times a week (gotta keep training for that eventual zombie apocalypse), so just utilizing basic hand to hand, I could fend off 4 or 5 of the little wieners. Kids don’t like getting kicked in the head, zombie or not. Don’t ask me how I know. Plus, you’ve got reach and height over them. With a good swing, you could knock 2 or 3 back at a time as well.

Bonjoooour, you brain eating surrender monkeys!

Weaponless and surrounded, I don’t care if they are 5, you’re going down fast. Your average janitor’s closet is a veritable “horn o’ plenty” for zombie slaying. Brooms and mops make great staffs for whackin’ a zombie in the noggin or just pushing them back. Plus, you can go all MacGuyver and start mixing chemicals to make your own molotovs (doubling for this are science labs). Bonus to that if your guidance counselor was a drunk like mine, you can probably find a pocket whiskey traveler in his office. His being a pedophile doesn’t help, though. Moving on, if your school was rich enough (and fuck you, by the way) you might have on staff groundskeepers, so chainsaws, hedgeclippers, hell even going “Dead Alive” on them with a lawn mower are all viable options, but as this is rare, we’ll consider these non-factors. More likely, you’ll have plenty of sports equipment in a gym, so bats and hockey sticks will suffice, maybe even the handle of a paper trimmer could be useful for hacking up some zombies.

Next is defense. Tight, narrow spaces are your friend, with easy escapes. Heavier desks could serve as good blockades along with bookshelves, staggering them to create small channels. Hockey gloves and football helmets could serve as makeshift armor, though in a pinch wrapping your arms in a towel is good against bites and scratching. Maybe even a strong fire hose could knock back a few swarming zombies. Fire escapes also make great getaways, but getting trapped on one is a sure way to get your brains gnawed on as well, so it’s a double edged sword.

Factoring maybe 7-10 zombies taken out with a molotov, a handful with a weapon as they start to trickle in and a few more before you’re overwhelmed, my guess between 20-25 seems about right. And if you think I’m crazy for planning this all through, you need to read up on stories like this. Let’s just hope recently inaugurated President Obama can institute a “No Zombie Left Alive” Act soon.

Come up with better ideas? Leave us some comments and tell us what you’d do.

Some observations from the coverage of the inauguration.

Reagan apparantly had to be roused from sleep to make sure he was on time for his. He even asked the aide, “Do I have do get up now ?”, according to the anecdote. So much for the old adage “You snooze, you lose.”

The Presidential limo is swanky. It’s a black Cadillac, though thugs will be disappointed to learn it’s not an Escalade. Anderson Cooper did note that the vehicle contains a 10-disc cd player, which is exactly the kind of keen insight we’ve come to depend on from 24-hour news networks. I hope there’s some Presidents of the United States of America among the music.

Cheney’s in a wheelchair. He’s got a cain and black shawl over his legs. It’d be hard for him to look more like a supervillian. Maybe a giant scar across his cheek or a glass eye would put him over the top. He reportedly hurt his back lifting boxes into his new Va. home, but it’s probably strain from carrying countless lies and secrets around for 8 years taking its toll.

No CNN anchors or correspondents appearing as holograms yet. One should at least be hovering over the 2 million-plus gathered at the mall. I thought this was supposed to be a historical day. I can’t be the only one who believes Soledad O’Brien would be even sexier in hologram form.

At least McCain can rally behind one improbable Arizona run towards victory: the Cardinals. Maybe he should’ve chosen Kurt Warner as his veep, since you can never underestimate that amount of people that think the ability to throw a perfect spiral 50-yards is a necessary skill for an administration.

Wolf Blitzer is constantly interupting everyone, usually to misidentify a politician. He also periodically asks the commentator to shush so we can listen to the music being played. I’d say someone didn’t have his McGriddles and Adderall this morning.

The one article of clothing that could rival Michelle Obama’s dress for yellow ridiculousness is a rubber chicken suit.

The elder Bush looks a little shaky. He probably Googled his son for the first time and didn’t like the results that came up.

For all you tweens watching the introductions of former presidents, Jimmy Carter is not Aaron Carter’s father. Also, Barbara Bush not one of the Golden Girls.

The bible being used for the swearing in is larger than Dennis Kucinich.

“Air and Simple Gifts” is political code for money and campaign contributions.

Still no new gadgets or ground-breaking graphics from CNN. Where’s the Optimism O-Meter or the image of what Martin Luther King Jr. would look like today if he were alive to witness history?

Here’s a fun fact: The Constitution states that a President’s term begins officially at noon, even if he doesn’t take the oath until after that time. One lesser-known fact is that the Constitution dictates the President’s first lunch be a turkey sandwich on rye. The Commander-in-Chief has his choice of cheese.

Obama unintentionally stepped on the platform meant for his wife. This suave leader just might have a little Steve Urkel in him.

Our 44th President’s speech was so moving and powerful that my tears cried. I should’ve bought stock in Kleenex on Friday.

There are many movies in theatres at the moment, so it can be difficult deciding what’s worth watching. Here’s a guide to what’s currently playing with a short summary of each film.

Carey's performance is a must si, not a must-see.

Yes Man:  Jim Carrey can’t say no…to making lazy, one-note comedies.

The Day the Earth Stood Still: About when Keanu Reeves recieved his star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

Bedtime Stories: Acting on a bet, Adam Sandler wears more than one pair of clothes on screen for the first time in a movie. Then, for no reason, he sings a song rhyming “costume” with “bazooms.”

Valkyrie: Tom Cruise tries to kill Hitler, but he’s wearing an eyepatch, so depth-perception is an issue. Mission: Imperfect.

The Tale of Despereaux: For those who felt Ratatouille wasn’t French enough (though it won’t make a ro-dent in that film’s gross).

Seven Pounds: Will Smith is a wealthy man who tries to attone for his mistakes. Saying sorry for starring in another somber movie would be a good start.

The Spirit: The truth, in black and white, is that this is Sin City lite. And that we’ve scraped the bottom of the barrel for comic book adaptations.

Bolt: As in, Bolt the door, honey, before we’re forced to take the kids to another animated pooch flick.

Grand Torino: A crusty Clint Eastwood learns to dislike Asians a little less than he hates everyone else.

Milk is remaining true to its name by appearing in 2% of theatres.

Milk: Harvey Milk did the body politic good, but someone else decided the activist’s expiration date.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button: Like most Hollywod stars, Brad Pitt longs to reverse the aging process.

Marley and Me: Jennifer Aniston tries to train a shaggy rascal, Owen Wilson, and instead settles for puppy love, decent box office returns.

Revolutionary Road: Bored, affluent white people in the ’50s packed their bags for Paris to escape the drudgery of life. Nowadays, they travel to the local art house cinema.

Frost/Nixon: Long-lost limericks by poet Robert Frost about the polarizing 37th President (sample: There once was a man named Nixon/whose career needed a lot of fixing/the scandal of Watergate/sealed his grim fate/and his enemies got their licks in.

Twilight: Vampires who’d rather babble than bite. Way to suck the fun out of these carnivorous creatures.

Craigspissed: This Bond is knot happy.

Doubt: How much time should a priest spend socially with an altar boy? According to one Sister, nun. A touching story. Or not.

Slumdog Millionaire: In India, the equivalent of the game show “Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?” is “Are You Smarter Than a BioChemical Engineer?” The prize for winning is getting to keep your PhD.

Quantum of Solace: If James Bond doesn’t cheer up, his next adventure will be titled “Dosage of Prozac.”

Mall Cop: About the job Kevin James is two flops away from having.

Notorious: If you’ve seen other rapper biopics, this one will be a B.I.G. waste of your time.

Ok, so I haven’t had the most extensive love life in the world. In fact, most people would call it borderline vow-of-chastity monk-in-the-antarctic crushed-my-testicles-in-a-horrible-work-related-accident kind of never getting some. But I have discovered in my travels that while some terms of endearment, like sex kitten, can be cute and playful, not all creatures in the animal kingdom work the same way.

Here’s a quick rundown of my experimentation with such:

“So we doin’ this or what?”

sex kitten – affectionate nuzzling
sex lolcat – I can haz booty?
sex puppy – doggystyle
sex goblin – only for D&D chicks, +2 to doin’ it
sex camel – more humps than sex llama
sex chipmunk – stares at you dramatically
sex raptor – will immediately leave to attack randall monroe
sex t-rex – will engage in witty observations, look for sexy makeouts
sex zebra – black and white and sexy all over
sex platypus – lots of confusion, you don’t know what the hell you’re fucking
sex seal – if she’s a loose seal, she’ll bite your hand off
sex porpoise – no reason for it (pun!)
sex fail whale – no one’s following your tweet after that
sex cougar – only works with older chicks
sex weasel – offers to “return the favor”, then leaves while you’re in the shower
sex panther – 60% of the time, works every time (other 40%, hosed down by Hazmat)

1st Term of Endearment: Britney and Barack — BFFs?

Earlier this week, the Twitter accounts of Britney Spears and Barack Obama were hacked. Is it a coincidence or were the pop star and President-elect covertly carrying on a relationship? CA uncovered a secret dialogue where some textual healing took place.

Obama: Who’s this? Ayers? Blago?

Spears: It’s Britney, bitch!

Obama: O. I was hoping for Jamie Lynn.

Spears: WTF?

Obama: J/K!

Spears: ROTFL!!

Obama: So, what’s up? Need help w/ a song? I’ve got some sweet speechwriters.

Spears: Just wanna say congrats.

Obama: Thnx. I got a little “Lucky.”

Spears: LOL. U listen 2 my music?

Obama: 24/7.

Spears: Hot. I’m really n2 politics. “Womanizer,” is about Bill Clinton.

Obama: 4 real?

Spears: 4 sheezy, preezy.

Obama: Huh?

Spears: That’s slang 4 “President.”

Obama: That song would work for John Edwards, 2.

Spears: The psychic?

Obama: N/M. Is ”Toxic” is about the ills of dumping waste illegally and how the country is slowly becoming a giant landfill b/c of our mindset that everything’s disposable?

Spears: OMG!!! U understood the msg!

Obama: Have u joined Baby Mommas for Obama?

Spears: IDK. I’m soo busy.

Obama: Ya, ur life’s a “Circus.”

Spears: LMAO! Tru dat.

Obama: FYI, as the “preezy,” I could have K-Fed executed.

Spears: I’ll Barack your world!

Funny money: Cook, shown here asking humorously to borrow $2 for gas (he leaves the thumb out in case you turn him down and he needs to hitch a ride). 

Dane Cook’s business manager has been laughing all the way to the bank. The half-brother of the comedian is accused of embezzeling more than $10 million, including forging a $3 million check. This robber relative, who has managed Cook’s finances since the early 1990s, clearly isn’t a candidate for “Employee of the Month.” Since drama sells, we’ve re-worked the titles of a few of his movies and stand-up specials to reflect this personal betrayal.

Dane in Real Strife

Bad Luck, Schmuck

Poorgasm

Viscious Inner Circle

Waiting…For Cash